


Pent Up

by sekiharatae



Series: Behind Closed Doors [2]
Category: Final Fantasy VII
Genre: F/M, Porn Battle, Romance, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-05-12
Updated: 2009-05-12
Packaged: 2017-10-12 11:43:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/124476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sekiharatae/pseuds/sekiharatae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A man and a woman who are experiencing mutual attraction are forced to share close quarters and a single bed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pent Up

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Dry-humping

_Perfect,_ Cloud thought, as he watched Tifa huffily settle herself down to sleep on the cot in their cell, _now she's embarrassed_ and _angry._

A man and a woman who are experiencing mutual attraction are forced to share close quarters and a single bed.

It sounded like the perfect scenario for some quality time in their relationship. Instead, thanks to Shin-Ra failing to provide even a passing nod toward privacy, they'd shared several hours of grueling embarrassment during which they'd studiously ignored both the bare bones facilities and each other.

Now, thanks to Aerith bringing up that stupid 'date' agreement, his butt was going numb from the hard floor, and Tifa was giving him the silent treatment.

He let the silence drag on for awhile, listening to the quiet noises Tifa made while trying to get comfortable, but after the tenth time she turned over and thumped the poor excuse for a pillow, he'd had enough.

"Move over," he said, standing and crossing the few paces it took to reach the cot.

"What?"

"You're not sleeping, and the floor is cold and hard. Move over." Looking like she wanted to protest but was unable to find a real reason, she swung her legs over the end of the cot and shifted to rest her back against the wall. Cloud took up a position next to her, hands crossed behind his head, and silence once again descended.

"Where are you going?"

One bright blue eye cracked open to peer at her, the eyebrow above it raised in question.

"On your date. Where will you be taking her?"

He sighed, closing his eye and resettling his head against his hands. "Nowhere. There isn't going to be a date." From the beginning, the whole thing had been a joke.

"That's not what Aerith seems to think." Tifa was carefully and studiously examining her nails in an attempt to appear calm, while inside the impulse to shout in triumph warred with another that wanted to smack him for stringing along the other girl.

"Aerith likes to tease me." Which was an understatement if there ever was one. "I'm not dating her, or anyone else."

"Oh." Silence. He doubted it would last very long. "Why not?"

His eyes opened a slit, gloved hands clenching into fists at the question, but otherwise his posture remained unchanged. "You're not seriously asking me that." His voice was flat. When she stared blankly at him, he shook his head and gave a wry laugh. Fingers curled around her wrist and gave a sharp yank, pulling her into his lap. Her thighs settled of their own accord on either side of his hips, his hands binding her waist in leather and muted heat as he captured her mouth with his kiss.

For one slow beat of her heart she froze. Then everything sped up – her pulse, her need, and his demand. Cloud kissed the way he fought: with focus and intensity and a skill that was overwhelming. Once he had her gasping, he released her lips to slide his mouth along her throat, his tongue hot and wet against her skin. Then his lips were toying with her earring, breath warm and teasing as his hips thrust up while his hands pulled hers down. "This is why."

He was already hard. Fingers tangled in his hair, she let her head fall back and moaned as he held her firmly against his erection, heat and pressure all along her slit. Her clit throbbed, the traitorous little bundle of nerves having grown steadily more excited from the moment they'd been thrown in the cell _together_ , and she rocked her hips, rubbing against him through the thin material of her panties and the soft, worn fabric of his fatigues.

Impossibly sensitive. Perfectly responsive. He growled, the sound at once hungry and satisfied, and captured her lips again.

Tifa shifted, her knees sliding forward until they brushed the wall, skirt bunching higher, little more than a belt around her waist. At the same time, she spread her legs further apart, her single-minded goal to get closer. His hands cupped her bottom, helping her move, and she leaned into him, hands braced on either side of his head. Eyes closed, her forehead against his, sharing breath, she focused on grinding. On finding the right pressure and rhythm and glide.

Gloved fingers held her back, forcing her motions to follow a pace he chose, his voice telling her to go slow. She shook her head and arched her back, pressing her breasts into his chest; she'd needed this – needed _him_ – for what seemed like ages. Why shouldn't she be greedy? But Cloud was stronger and more in control, and his very insistence on having things _his_ way just made her hotter.

It wasn't sex, but it was close enough for now. With his mako eyes intent, his hips moving for her pleasure, and his voice urging her on, whispering dark promises.

When the scrap of fabric between her legs grew damp, changing their friction, Cloud shifted, sliding down until he was almost reclining, weight braced behind him on his forearms, giving her free reign to find her peak. Eyes heavy lidded, he watched her move as his fingers toyed with her suspenders, rubbing teasingly against taut nipples. Bottom lip caught between her teeth, hands braced against his abs, Tifa's face was a mask of need and concentration. Straining upwards, he caught her nipple between his teeth, biting gently through the fabric of her shirt, and was rewarded with a pleading mewl. He moaned in reply, the sound for her benefit, enjoying the frantic clenching of her fingers and thighs.

"Please!" Quiet and breathy and desperate.

He smiled, leaning back, smug and certain, fully clothed yet sexy enough to make her shiver. Then he arched his back, giving her just a bit more contact, the jut of his hips brushing hers _just so_ , and she came, holding her breath to keep silent.

After, she slumped against him, her hair a wild tangle across her arm and his chest. Drowsy, she didn't protest when he turned them, spooning against her back, and mumbled sleepy assent when he teasingly asked if she would like to go on a date.


End file.
